


Brother

by Twilighthawke



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Awkward situations, F/M, Siblings, vague backstory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 11:29:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4058362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twilighthawke/pseuds/Twilighthawke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skyhold receives a visitor. A loud, angry visitor that demands an audience with the Herald of Andraste.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brother

“Where is she?!” The angry voice echoed through the great hall and Erica froze in Josephine’s office.

“No…” she muttered under her breath as the noise continued. Numbly, she moved across the office to the door, Josephine’s confused questions rolling over her, unheeded. She pushed the doors open to see who was currently fighting anyone and everyone who got near him.

The loud intruder was dressed in travel leathers but that didn’t fool Erica. They were too well-made to belong to a merchant or a farmer. Besides, Erica knew this boy. And he was a boy. Barely 27 years old, and scruffy-looking. He’d grown a beard and he’d let his hair grow long.

“You tell me where the so-called ‘Herald of Andraste’ is, or I will punch you in the face,” threatened the young man.

“Bean, stop it!” Erica was red with embarrassment and fury. How dare he come in here and threaten violence.

The newly identified ‘Bean’ whipped his head around to face her. His face cycled through a myriad of emotions; surprise, relief, and then back to anger. He stormed over to her, he was easily a head taller than her but Erica didn’t flinch. She stood her ground until he was about four feet from her and suddenly Cullen was between them, his own face a mask of professionalism. His back muscles told a different story, he was tense to the point of shaking.

“Ser, control yourself,” Cullen bit out in a low voice.

“Cullen—“ Erica put a hand on his arm. He glanced at her sidelong.

“Who are you then?” the loud stranger demanded. _Maker_ , Erica thought, _he hasn’t changed at all_.

“Commander Cullen Rutherford of the Inquisition’s forces,” Erica moved in between the impressive displays of manliness. “Meet Harold Trevelyan,” she gestured and Harold puffed himself up, eyes never leaving Cullen’s.

Cullen looked at her, shock and maybe a little hurt visible on his face for only a second before his professional mask was back on. She knew what he was thinking and she would have to apologize for that later. For right now, every noble in the great hall was studiously pretending that they didn’t exist.

“Can we discuss this somewhere more private?” Erica asked in a low voice. Not allowing either of them to reply she grabbed both Cullen’s and Harold’s arm and started to drag them towards her rooms. Once safely behind closed doors, she shoved Harold violently into the center of the room. She felt Cullen behind her, the weight of his presence pressed on her.

“Pretty nice set up you’ve got here sis,” Harold surveyed the room, hands shoved sulkily in his pockets. Behind her Cullen nearly swallowed his tongue.

“You need a haircut,” she glared at her baby brother.

“I should leave,” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, a clear sign that he was uncomfortable, and who could blame him. Erica’s hand shot out so fast it was nearly a blur, latching onto Cullen’s arm as he tried to turn away.

“No, no, the man I am _sleeping_ with should be properly vetted by at least one of my brothers,” Erica said pointedly to her brother.

“Sleeping with?!” Harold sputtered.

Cullen shifted his weight from foot to foot. He looked anywhere but at the man in front of him. Erica glared pointedly, her arm still possessively on Cullen’s.

“Honestly, I have paperwork I should get back to,” Cullen said faintly.

“No, stay.” Erica insisted, turning to look at him for the first time. Pleading with him with her eyes.

“Maker, Beaver, you certainly have a type don’t you?” Harold, ‘Bean’, whatever grinned a shit-eating grin and shot a wink Cullen’s way.

“Don’t call me that, Bean.” Groaning, Erica left Cullen’s side to shove Harold again. The big man let her push him around.

“Then don’t call me ‘Bean’.” Harold made a face when he said the nickname. “I’m not a kid anymore.”

“Aren’t you though?” Erica snapped. Cullen had never seen her like this. Irrational, juvenile almost.

“Maker, Erica I haven’t seen you in ten years and this is the welcome I get?” Harold huffed.

“Nine years,” Erica folded her arms in front of her chest. “It’s been nine years.”

“You never wrote,” Harold said rather sulkily. He folded his arms, mirroring Erica’s body language.

“Neither did you,” Erica shot back. “Celina was the only one who bothered to write at all, in fact.”

“I tried, Erica.” Harold matched her heated tone. “Maker’s balls Erica it’s not like you were the easiest person to find!” he threw up his hands in a warding gesture. “Whatever, I didn’t come here to fight with you I came to—“ he looked away, dropping his arms back to his side. Erica stepped forward, face softening slightly.

“Came to what, Bean?” she prodded gently.

Harold scratched at his chin and the scruff there for a minute, eyes still avoiding Erica’s. Gently, she touched his arm and his head shot up. Hazel eyes met fade-green ones.

“We didn’t leave on the best of terms,” Harold started slowly. “I guess I just wanted to say… I wanted to tell you…” he trailed off. Cullen shifted his weight uncomfortably. This really wasn’t his place, an intimate moment between estranged siblings. “I wanted to say I was sorry.” Harold finished lamely.

“What?” Erica blinked several times. “You’re apologizing? Why?” Shaking her head Erica took a step back. Harold looked confused.

“It was my fault,” he began. “I shouldn’t have been so pig-headed,” he said but Erica was saying something at the same time.

“You were eighteen,” she continued shaking her head. “I was an adult I shouldn’t have pulled something that big on you.”

“Look, I really think this is something that you two should discuss… between the two of you,” Cullen stuttered moving towards the stairs. The siblings looked at him and in unison exclaimed in the negative.

“No, no. Cullen, was it?” Harold stepped forward, his hand out. “My sister’s wording may have been crude, but if you’re courting her I would really like to make your acquaintance.” He took Cullen’s hand in a firm grip and clapped him on the shoulder with the other. It was a brotherly gesture, and one that Cullen appreciated in the tense atmosphere of the room.

“We should get supper,” Erica suggested.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I am officially over my writers block. Harold Trevelyan, i may never actually make him in game, but he exists. hes a young hot-head. fun stuff.


End file.
